Heart and Mind

Stepping it Up: "Luxuries" become Necessities

In some ways, one might argue that I basically left home when I was seventeen. Others might say that I'm stretching the truth there, because those first few years were spent in college, which, even when living off campus and trying your darndest to not be some typical kid who's just "going to school," creates an environment that doesn't quite mimic the real world. And there was a time when my wife and I crashed at my folks house for a little while in my mid 20s when we were between places.

But when I look back, despite whatever spin you want to put on it, I feel like I started the game of independence pretty early compared to some people. Seventeen really was the last time I felt completely "kid like" in the sense that I felt like my parents' home was my home, and I never felt like I lived there beyond that.

I don't know what my experience would have been like if I was one of those people who never moved out until their late 20s after having worked for several years. Starting younger, though, I know that there has definitely been an evolution of the "level of comfort" that I felt comfortable allowing myself to have. And this is basically the result of how much money I wanted to (or could reasonably afford to) spend.

For example, I lived without any form of air conditioning through many hot summers, and then when I did live in a place where air condtitioning was built into the apartment walls, I still only used it very sparingly on only the very hottest days of the year. Air conditioning was a major drain on electricity, which led to a heightened electric bill.

I never could picture myself actually buying matching furniture. Mismatched hand-me-downs or garage-sale fare was the only reasonable way to go.

Food—a staple of life—was even bought cautiously. I never had a fully stocked fridge in the early days. Oh, I didn't starve. But I basically bought just what I figured I'd eat that week and no convenience foods.

I hung my laundry when I could, and felt guilty about using the dryer.

And I kept the heat at a level slightly above freezing. And let it drop to arctic conditions at night when I was under the covers.

None of this seemed odd to me and , in hindsight, I still think it made sense. To be paying your own way and managing your affairs at an age where a lot of people were still crashing at their parents house meant that you probably weren't going to have "all the comforts of home." Or, more accurately, all the comforts of home to the same degree.

The part that did seem odd was that I had no idea if or when this kind of outlook would end. All of the adult role models in my life didn't live like this. Sure, my parents tried not to be wasteful, but there wasn't the tight leash at their house that I put myself on. The furniture in their house matched. And it was kind of nice. If I brought over my week's worth of laundry—which I'd do on occassions where I was there for some other social event and had to be there all day, anyway—they never cared that all of a sudden they'd be adding 4 extra loads to the budget. If you were cold, they'd say, "Go turn up the heat."

It went beyond being frugal or cheap. That was part of it, but part of it was a sense that these things were luxuries, not necessities. And I believed it.

I used to wonder when I'd become like my parents and stop worrying about taxing all the resources to be comfortable and I never knew when.

The truth, I've learned, is that it is a slow climb and it changes all very gradually. It wasn't an overnight thing where one day I decided to step it all up. And yet, if ten years ago I could have seen how I'm living now , I'd probably thing I had "arrived." From my matching furniture to my air conditioning to the vast amounts of bottled water that I drink largely for convenience (despite the fact that the faucet is right here), I've come a long way in what I consider to be "normal" vs. "something nice , but something that I don't need to be spending my money on." I do need to be spending my money on this stuff.

But I don't think I'm fully "there" yet, and don't know that I ever will be. Rather, I just keep making small changes as time goes by. I mean, my furniture matches (in some of the rooms, anyway!), but it's not particularly expensive furniture. The thought of spending too much money on a sofa seems excessive, extravant, and frivilous to me. Probably someday it won't. Someday it will probably seem normal, and what I need to live appropriately.

It goes well beyond having the "means" to pay for nicer things. I've always lived beneath my means, so what I can afford doesn't dictate what I will spend. It has to do with hanging around the world long enough and deciding you're getting older and you bust your ass and you think you deserve to live better. I don't think it's a consious thought, though. It's just a head-space that changes in me.

I think it's natural and good. I wouldn't change a thing about the way I did things in this regard. All the 23-year-olds I knew who thought they needed to live with the exact comforts they had from their 50-year-old baby-boomer parents ended up "playing house" and went into major debt that they're still trying to figure out. And the ones who just stayed home and lived comfortably didn't know what they were missing out on and how great it was to be living in your own space, even if the furniture was second-hand.

posted by Steve @ 11:03 PM